Chapter 7 - The Doctor Who Had Been Afraid for Six Years.
Dr. Elias Venn looked nothing like a villain when Salem saw him.
Mattie knew because Salem told her later.
Not that she had asked.
He called that night.
“Are you busy?”
She looked around her apartment.
Kathleen asleep after treatment.
Connor doing equations at kitchen table.
Mattie folding towels.
“Terribly.”
“I can call tomorrow.”
That surprised her.
“No. What happened?”
Venn had two broken ribs.
Concussion.
Dehydration.
Marks on wrists.
He had been held for almost two days.
Police believed the restraints were real.
Could still be staged.
But less likely.
He gave a statement with counsel.
According to Venn, after treating Salem’s gunshot wound, he realized the pill bottle had been switched.
He tried calling Frank.
No answer.
Then he left through service passage to avoid the household.
In parking area, someone attacked him.
“Who?”
“He did not see.”
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
Good.
Salem had not abandoned skepticism.
Then Venn said something else.
He had known for six years that Gabriel’s death was suspicious.
Mattie stopped folding.
“Why didn’t he tell you?”
“Fear.”
She almost laughed.
“Of you?”
“Yes.”
There.
“What did he think you would do?”
“Kill him.”
Would old Salem have?
Silence.
“Would you?”
“Six years ago?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Possibly.”
Honest.
Mattie sat.
“So he stayed quiet because telling truth could get him killed by you or the person behind it.”
“Yes.”
“And you kept him close because you suspected him.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone in your life is healthy.”
“Thank you.”
“What did he know about Gabriel?”
Venn had treated the initial wound.
Imaging showed no obvious abdominal injury.
Gabriel stabilized.
Then hours later, bleeding worsened.
Venn blamed missed injury because he found a rare compound in Gabriel’s system? Let's structure.
He had prescribed a compounded anticoagulant gel for a clot in Gabriel’s arm, but only tiny topical amount, not near wound. Later he found a fresh dressing packet contaminated with same compound at much higher concentration.
He told Frank? No. Maybe he hid because thought Frank ordered compound and feared implicating him. Let's build.
“He found residue of the same compound on Gabriel’s abdominal dressing,” Salem said.
Mattie’s skin prickled.
“Same as yours.”
“Yes.”
“Did Frank apply it?”
“No. A night nurse hired privately changed dressing.”
“Who?”
“Her name was Lidia Costa.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
Of course.
“When?”
“Three years ago. Car accident.”
Could be natural, no need conspiracy. Let's avoid easy deaths.
“Living in Florida.”
Better.
“Have police contacted?”
“Working on it.”
Good.
“Who hired her?”
“Hawthorne’s medical staffing affiliate.”
There.
Mattie closed eyes.
Of course.
“Marco?”
“The affiliate was acquired by his wife’s fund two years later.”
Not at time.
Important.
“So not proof.”
“No.”
Good.
“What did Venn do after Gabriel died?”
“He kept a sample.”
Mattie stopped.
“Six years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Against who?
Everyone.
“He stored it outside clinic. When he saw my dressing residue, he compared.”
“And?”
“Match in chemical profile.”
There.
Same source or formula.
“Could be coincidence?”
“Dr. Shah says unlikely but possible.”
Good.
“What else?”
Venn claimed Gabriel had told him two days before shooting that someone was stealing from family companies through vendor contracts.
Same pattern.
There.
“Did Gabriel name someone?”
“No.”
“Of course.”
“He said he trusted the wrong cousin.”
Mattie went still.
“Marco.”
“Maybe.”
“Any other cousin?”
“Yes.”
Damn.
“Who?”
“Two.”
Good.
Not too easy.
Salem’s extended family.
“Then why is Marco center?”
“Because current evidence.”
Fine.
Then Salem’s voice changed.
“There is something I need to ask.”
Mattie looked at Connor.
He had headphones.
“What?”
“Do you still have the copy of old warning?”
“Yes.”
“Do not send photograph electronically.”
“Why?”
“The routing number points to an archive box in one of my warehouses.”
Her pulse changed.
“Warehouse?”
“Old service records.”
“Who can access?”
“Now? Me, Nico, Frank, and records staff.”
“Then you do not need me.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I need to know where Frank found warning.”
Mattie frowned.
“Personnel file?”
“Apparently not.”
“Where?”
“He said a drawer in former housekeeping office.”
“Why?”
“Because the maid left it there.”
“How does he know?”
“She told Greta before leaving.”
There.
Greta had not mentioned.
“Did Greta remember number?”
“No.”
“Why keep paper?”
“She keeps everything.”
Mattie smiled.
Of course.
Then Salem said:
“I am going to the warehouse tomorrow.”
“Police?”
“Counsel and police liaison know.”
Good.
“Nico?”
“Yes.”
“Frank?”
“No.”
Mattie frowned.
“Why?”
“Because his old credentials are being used.”
He was protecting chain of evidence and not excluding suspicion.
Good.
“Marco?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then Salem said:
“I want you nowhere near it.”
“Wasn’t planning.”
“Good.”
She heard something else.
He was afraid.
Not for himself.
Maybe for her.
“Salem.”
Silence.
First time she used his first name.
It changed the air through phone.
“Yes?”
“If this turns out to be Marco, what do you do?”
He was quiet.
“Depends what he did.”
“No.”
She said.
“What do you do?”
Violence hovered.
Family world.
Old rules.
Salem breathed.
“I do not know.”
Good.
That answer mattered.
“You have police involved now.”
“Yes.”
“Keep them.”
“You think I need moral instruction from my former maid?”
“Yes.”
He almost laughed.
Then:
“Why?”
“Because six years ago Venn was afraid truth would get him killed by you.”
Silence.
There.
“If you want people to tell you the truth now, maybe make that fear obsolete.”
The line stayed.
Salem did not answer for several seconds.
Then:
“Goodnight, Mattie.”
“Goodnight.”
He ended.
Connor took off headphones.
“You like him.”
Mattie threw a towel at him.
“I like oxygen.”
“You used his first name.”
“Do your equations.”
“He’s mafia.”
“Do your equations.”
“Mom will kill you.”
“Mom cannot climb stairs after dialysis.”
Kathleen’s voice from bedroom:
“I can throw things!”
Connor laughed.
Mattie closed eyes.
Family.
Then her phone buzzed again.
Not Salem.
Unknown.
She froze.
One message:
THE BOX IS EMPTY.
Her stomach tightened.
A second:
HE IS WALKING INTO ANOTHER TRAP.
She immediately called Salem.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then Nico.
He answered.
“What?”
“Do not go to the warehouse tomorrow.”
Silence.
“Why?”
She read message.
Nico swore.
“We haven’t told anyone outside four people.”
Mattie’s blood went cold.
“Who are four?”
“Me. Salem. records counsel. detective.”
Not Frank.
Not Greta.
Not Marco.
There.
If the message sender knew, leak could be in law enforcement or counsel.
Or their phones compromised.
Nico said:
“Send screenshot.”
“No. Salem told me not to send old clue electronically.”
“Different.”
“I am not sending anything until I talk to police directly.”
Good.
Nico exhaled.
“Fine.”
Then:
“Salem’s phone?”
“He left it in secure room with counsel.”
“Why?”
“Operational meeting.”
Good.
Not missing.
Mattie breathed.
“Tell him.”
“I will.”
Then Connor said:
“What box?”
Mattie looked at him.
“Nothing.”
He stared.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“What Dad used to do before he left.”
Their father had left? We haven't established. Could be father deceased/absent. Better not introduce. Let's say "what you tell Mom not to do." Hmm. We can revise. Let's instead Connor says "You just spent a week yelling about people hiding things." Good.
He said:
“You just spent a week yelling about people hiding things.”
Mattie closed her eyes.
Fair.
“Someone sent a threat about Salem.”
“Does it involve us?”
“No.”
“Then okay.”
Good.
No oversharing.
At midnight, Salem called.
“I heard.”
“You are not going.”
“No.”
Good.
“Warehouse?”
“Police will inspect first.”
“Good.”
Then his voice softened.
“You were right.”
Mattie smiled.
“Can you say it slower? I want to record.”
“Do not ruin this.”
“Sorry.”
“Venn told the truth because he knew he would not be harmed for it.”
There.
Salem had assured him.
In writing through counsel.
Interesting.
“And?”
“He gave police access to his stored sample and records.”
Good.
“Look at you.”
“Mattie.”
“Fine.”
Then Salem said:
“The anonymous sender may be Venn’s source.”
“What source?”
“Someone inside Hawthorne has been feeding him information for months.”
There.
“Who?”
“He never knew. Only encrypted messages.”
Mattie sighed.
“Of course.”
“But the wording is same.”
THE BOX IS EMPTY.
“Did Venn tell them warehouse?”
“No.”
“Then source is closer.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Get some sleep.”
“You first.”
“I am not your patient.”
“Correct. Patients listen.”
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Mattie felt warmth move through her chest.
Dangerous.
Then Salem said:
“Goodnight.”
The call ended.
At 6:00 a.m., police entered the warehouse.
The box was not empty.
That was the trap.
Inside were six years of vendor invoices, photographs, and one flash drive labeled with Gabriel’s initials.
Someone had wanted Salem to believe the evidence was gone so he would rush there without proper chain of custody.
He had not.
Because Mattie warned him.
On the drive, police found a vehicle parked two blocks away.
Rafael Dorsey inside.
Alive.
Watching the warehouse.
He tried to leave.
He was stopped.
No gunfight.
No cinematic chase.
Just a traffic stop with warrants waiting.
Dorsey asked for a lawyer.
Good.
The flash drive contained one video.
Gabriel Falcone.
Recorded three days before he died.
He looked directly into the camera and said:
“If Salem is watching this, then Uncle Vittorio found out what I know.”
The conspiracy finally had a name.
But it was not the name Salem had expected to hear.
Not Marco.
Vittorio.
The uncle who had led the family before Salem.
May you like
The man who had died of cancer four years earlier.
The man Salem had spent six years believing mourned Gabriel beside him without ever knowing the truth.
